Mistletoe
by Dendey
Summary: G1-AU! Just a quick christmas drabble that demanded to be written. The war is over, cybertronians have relocated back to Cybertron and are in the process of rebuilding their society.


Disclaimer: I do not own any of the various Transformers incarnations and variations. I make no profit with this in any valuable currency.

The only profit I make with this is bringing a smile to the face of others, which is a wonderful reward to me.

**Mistletoe**

"cybertronian speech"

#telepathic speech#

Vorns had passed since their stay on earth, but some of the customs of their human allies had remained with them. Like the festivity they called Christmas.

Looking around the big ballroom in which they had gathered, Prowl noticed a lack of attendance from some mechs that had personally promised him to be there. It irked him greatly, but something would be found to make them regret. There was always something to do that nobody actually wanted to do and it was always convenient to have a list with a few names handy that needed a nasty task to make up for one or another misdeed.

Starting to make his rounds around the room he noted that he had to scratch another name off that list, seeing as Soundwave had just stepped through the entrance. The former decepticon third in command had surprisingly not gone into the communication business as most autobots had expected. Not that it had surprised Prowl much. Soundwave might have been a telepath and a genius communications officer, but he wasn't a mech of many words. So the entertainment business really would have been a poor choice for him to make.

Instead Prowl had noted, with no little amount of satisfaction and pride in his ability to accurately predict the former decepticon, that he had ventured into the youth sectors, organizing his orn with the care for sparklings and younglings alike. Because caring for just one of the two groups left him with too much time on his servos and too much time meant too much time to think about the deactivation of his cassettes.

Many had been mistrustful of the mechs intentions. Some had even suggested that the telepath was indoctrinating the sparklings into the decepticon way of thinking and had demanded that Red Alert should supervise the tapedecks every twitch and vent cycle. The security director had at first almost fritzed at the mere suggestion of supervising the youth sectors, but after half a vorn it had been apparent that it had helped his mental state greatly.

Twitches and accusations of crimes as well as suggestions of suspicious behavior had lessened drastically. His psychologist of the vorn had attested him a massive break through in his processing paths. No longer was the first path of a process paved by his paranoia, instead it was carefully evaluated by his tactical processor before it was passed through his logic circuits and then given a thorough check by what had been dubbed by Ratchet as his paranoia processor.

Prowl had almost smiled when he had listened to Ratchet during his last check up, reiterating the discovery and subsequent nickname for the re-routed pathways within Red Alerts processors subcategories.

Even though everything that had happened in the youth sectors in the past twelve vorns was considered positive by both his processor and his spark, he could not help calculating just how much of that had been planned and intended by Soundwave. Had the telepath subtly suggested the re-routing to Red Alerts processing centers? Or had that happened entirely due to the sparklings the security officer observed in their discovery of everything new? It wasn't easy to find a definitive answer to these questions, not even with a tactical processor as advanced as the one Prowl had.

A glance made him freeze where he stood.

"Prowl: unobservant." Soundwave intoned after he had inclined his helmet to him in greeting.

"That would be new." Prowl replied and took careful stock of his surroundings, trying to find what it was that the tapedeck meant. Careful observation of the mechs around them did not gain him any new intel. Nor did pinging Jazz bring him any closer to uncover the mystery.

"Will you tell me what you mean or do I have to discover it on my own?" He finally just asked the mech that had stopped him in the middle of one of the halls many archs.

Soundwave merely pointed upwards in reply.

As Prowl slowly lifted his optics away from the red visor to investigate the ceiling and servo-crafted arch of the ballroom, he noted two tings.

The first was a surprise, but the second less so, seeing as the first explained the motivation behind it.

A lightening quick movement had the tapedecks face guard retract, while his right servo shot from his side to softly cup Prowls neck joint as the slightly taller mech leaned down to affectionately brush their dermaplates together.

Jazz had managed to sneak in a mistletoe after all.

Prowl relaxed into the kiss, it was only polite to return the custom in kind after all. Not that the light caress along his neck lines felt polite, it felt positively incending. And their kiss was lasting quite a bit longer than society deemed polite for a mere rescue kiss so he could pass the mistletoe and hopefully not forget to take a different route on his next round, so he would be able to pass it without becoming trapped under it once more.

#I wouldn't mind coming to your rescue again.# A warm voice floated through his CPU.

It appeared Soundwave was flirting with him.

The End


End file.
